


Where Your Flowers Bloom

by cherryskissy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BoyxBoy, Confusion, Cute, FloristAU, Football, Harry Styles - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, Zayn Malik - Freeform, harry is cute, i don’t know a lot about soccer, one direction - Freeform, slowburn, thank Oscar, zarry - Freeform, zarry stylik, zayn is dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryskissy/pseuds/cherryskissy
Summary: Harry works as a florist, and Zayn is allergic to Flowers, but he likes Harry more(short)
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Where Your Flowers Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍  
> 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎  
> 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝  
> 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝  
> 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

✿

When Zayn found the cafe spot he would stop by every morning on his way to the studio had been put up for lease, he was absolutely livid. It wasn't ever the famous little cooped up spot on the side of the street you'd picture in a novel where the protagonist finds the love of their life, or where journalists raid for inspiration, it was a simple little place where he would buy his double shot expresso after having worked until three am and then being up at seven to be out the door and simply grab a cup on his way to work.

"i heard they are opening a florist". Zayn was tracking alongside Liam; gym enthusiast and long term best friend turned roommate as he held the leash attached to Oscar-the scruffy border terrier which occupied the space between his toes and the end of his bed despite him being Liam's. you see, when the two first moved in-or when Liam's friend fell through on college to join a band and he begged Zayn to rent out with him, he stumbled across the animal at a shelter and bought him trying to impress the girl who worked there and ended up having a boyfriend, something their friends refuse to let him live up to.

"just what we need" Zayn rolled his eyes at the green painted entry, windows covered in newspaper and taped up ready to be replaced. he truly wept for his morning coffee routine as now it meant he'd have to wake up half an hour earlier simply to get in the mindset of making his own brew.

✿

Zayn crossed paths with the construction site each morning, sipping his coffee idly as he pocketed his fists and embraced the turning warmth as spring progressed. He'd walk passed with Liam who jogged while he held Oscar in one hand and his rucksack full of pencils and sketches in the other. He never paid attention, more out of pettiness than anything else. It was his path to work, and his path home, when he carried a bag full of groceries and held his coat tighter as the wind belted against his back and pushed him along faster as if urging him out the way. When the shop finally opened, a grand monday morning where the keeper blew up balloons and hung out streamers to the front alongside elaborate posters hand painted, Zayn sneezed and grumbled as he jutted his chin away from the direction of petunias and tulips that invaded his nostrils. it became a race, a test to see each morning how fast he could pass by without being caught by the roaming pollen that streamed from the entrance.

He purposely stopped going on those walks with Liam on those afternoons when he refused to move his routes while Zayn blew into a tissue "Liam it's killing me!"

One afternoon when he felt extremely bitter; having woken up late and not being able to make his own coffee, the milk being expired with a bright yellow sticky note that wrote "URGENT! MILK NEEDED!" on the empty carton tucked in its usual place in the fridge, having a terrible case of the sniffles at work and not being able to function steadily, the last straw being when the new carton of milk leaked all through his bag and soaked the sketches for the upcoming piece he was doing for a magazine as he passed the wearily grown flowers that peaked out into the street as if to catch glimpse of the city or reach for him. That night, he raided the cupboard for allergy medication and locked Oscar out of his room as he wiped his laptop down and wrote a very angry review for the flower store.

"annoying!" he entered, following a hefty spew on how inconsiderate the store was of his feeble nostrils, and the space on the footpath it took up, adding extra exclamation marks wherever he felt necessary (almost after every word). By the time he had finished and proof read, hitting enter with his index finger like he was out on a cause, he felt the medication having settled in and sighed in relief, feeling much better.

✿

The next few days he passed the florist, there was a miniature pinch of pride in his chest as he held his breath and picked up his step, even deciding on thursday that he'd take Oscar for a walk when Liam had gone out for the afternoon. Taking his usual route, he held his phone in one hand as Oscar trailed ahead of him with his tongue flapping about like it was his first night out in months, Zayn going through his emails.

Upon reaching the corner was when his plan went downhill, not paying attention and allowing Oscar to slip from his hand as he caught sight of a very amusing pigeon ahead that fled upon his bouncing arrival.

"Oscar! get here!" Zayn screamed, chasing after the dog that must have taken his plea as a means of play, picking up his pace as if Zayn was asking for a race. He was out of breath, clutching his chest, when he saw Oscar stop to take a piss on this baby pot plant out the front of the florist. thank fucking god he thought to himself when he noticed someone stepping out of the building and leaning down to pet the dog, keeping him there long enough for Zayn to catch up "Oscar!" he tried to scold through pants of breathless air, falling short of the dogs floppy spotted ears when he leaned into the strangers hand that patted away soothingly. The stranger looked up, bright eyes catching on Zayn as his smile grew dimpled and welcoming.

"what's his name?" the stranger asked, still down on his knees with Oscar panting away under his hands, now soaking up the attention, and Zayn would just stand there and stare blankly even longer at this stranger if it weren't for the people walking around him and bringing him out of his head. "Zayn" he says on instinct, wincing, "Oscar-I'm Zayn, this is Oscar" he gestures between them, and the stranger nods with a little giggle "Zayn, I'm Harry" he stands, and Zayn didn't even realise he was outside the florist until he's catching the miniature deep green apron wrapping the bottom half of Harry's waist as he holds Oscar in his arms like cradling a child. He sneezes.

"bless you" Harry hands him Oscar, and Zayn places him back on the ground once he's secured his hand tightly around the leash, thanking him and for catching Oscar.

"you work here?" he doesn't even spare a glance at the building, still slightly petty, even if the charming lad with curly locks that bounce when he says "i own the place" named Harry states.

"oh" is all Zayn can muster. Harry mustn't catch the frown spread across his face as he leans down and picks up a little plant "here you go".

"what is it?" Zayn stares, taking it in his spare hand and holding it to his chest as Harry laughs "a peace lily" he says without even looking.

Zayn is about to ask why Harry is giving him a flower, and if it's some sort of thing he does when he fancies someone, and then wondering if Harry thinks he's hot, when Harry smiles and points "Oscar peed on it, so i think its his to keep" and Zayn almost drops the plant at the sudden realisation before Harry is giggling again .

"this isn't funny" Zayn remarks when Oscar looks up at him with his tongue poking out to the side, innocent gleam in his eyes, when Harry waves them goodbye, explaining he doesn't mean to be rude but it's that he's closing the store and goes inside.

Liam doesn't even ask why Zayn's placed a pot plant in the entrance of their abode when he gets home that evening.

✿

The following morning is a Saturday, and despite Zayn not having work, he gets up early and brews himself a cup of coffee as the sun rises. Then, he takes a spare glass out of the sink and fills it with water before walking over to the entrance of the apartment to gently douse the flower that remains there in water. He's not particularly certain how much to give it, not ever having taken a potting class or owned a plant himself for obvious reasons, so he gives it half the glass and then leaves it be.

When he's sitting on the couch with Oscar perched to his left struggling against himself with his blue matted bear that Zayn won at a carnival when he went with Liam and their friend Niall when he first moved in, he's found himself in the deep part of the web staring at forums on how to know how much water a flower needs, whats a peace lily? where to put plants. before He's struck with the sudden idea that Harry is a florist. Harry knows flowers. Harry knows plants. so that's what he does; clips Oscar to his lead and picks up the pot tucked away by the door, tracking down the street toward the florist as he wonders if it's a little forthcoming to be showing up this early in the morning, trying to convince himself it's not so weird.

It's the first time he's ever been inside a florist, gaping at the woven streams of green hung by the ceiling and filling the corners of the store. It's uncanny, the wooded floor swallowed of its space, and quite possibly his worst nightmare, as he tries not to get too close or sniff the air.

"Zayn" Harry peaks from behind a particularly unruly leaved affair of a pot, a spray bottle in hand as he smiles down to oscar, already kneeling down to meet the impatient barks and wag of his tail. Zayn won't pride himself on the fact Harry remembered his name, especially when his attention is too caught up on the furred creature by his feet to seem to properly greet him, until finally looking back up to him from his knelt position on the floor when he returns "good morning".

"I was wondering if you'd give me some advice," he gets right to the point, feeling the unreachable itch forming between his nostrils and holding back the need to sneeze when Harry stands back up, brushing off his hands on his apron and looking down at the plant in his free hand.

"Let's see" Harry offers his spread hands, palms dusted a light brown shade of dirt, weighing the leaves and scoping the flower out when he turns to walk behind a desk. Zayn follows, trained eyes on the furrow of Harry's brow when he leans down to look at the plant like a doctor. He bites back a chuckle.

"Make sure to leave it inside, the weather is changing rapidly which can be damaging" he seems to have already guessed he had done that, an approving nod following, "in a more sheltered zone".

"Sunlight is a no" Zayn notes, Harry humming when he reaches for his spray bottle. "Lily's are rather fragile, and need consistently moist soil, but not soaked" he doesn't mention it, but Zayn cringes at the thought of dropping a glass of water on it that morning. Somehow, Harry notices, but a smile crosses his face rather than disproving-which comforts him then.

"it's not dead yet, so good job".

Zayn walks home with another plant, a small aloe that he stutters and points to when Harry looks at him afterward like he's waiting for him to say something else.

✿

By the end of the week, Zayn has a terribly sore throat, eyes watering as he tends to the growing stash of flower pots doubling to the front and windows of their apartment. Liam doesn't address it, but gives him an odd look each time he comes home from work to see another pot has manifested, certain his roommate has lost the plot.

"Come on, one last time" Zayn tugs on Oscars leash, the puppy sitting in the centre of the apartment with what Zayn can only assume is an unamused frown on his face, refusing to budge.

Liam comes out to enjoy the view, Zayn tugging the carpet across the apartment as Oscar settles comfortably in his place. He tried to coax him with treats yesterday, and the day before picked him up in triumph as he pointed "haha , I'm stronger" but groaned after the dog only sat back down outside the door of the apartment.

"I'm not gonna ask" Liam raises his arms in defeat, pulling a sandwich from the fridge and returning to his room, all the while shaking his head.

"Please," Zayn begs, now on the floor himself as the dog stares back at him. There's no way he can go visit Harry without the dog; his ultimate wingman.

"Oscar ate it," he mentioned on the third day, Harry ogling at him in worry with an "oh-I've never heard of that". Probably because it never happened.

On the fourth day, it was that Oscar had taken to pissing on the rather large flowering maple he had dragged home in a sweat the prior day, sneezing as the leaves tickled his nose and apologising when he almost walked into a woman on her way home from the store entering their building with a handful of bags. Harry pinched his chin between his fingers and angled his head at the innocent dog panting away on the floor, adding a "well, I'm not really a vet, but maybe move the plant if you're concerned?" It was so stupidly obvious, Zayn grew red as he nodded "that's very smart, thank you" whilst paying for a Jasmine plant as a means of sorry.

"I'm worried," Zayn placed the lily on the desk on the fifth day, Harry taping up a bouquet behind it. He explained that he was certain the leaves were drooping, and the flower was definitely going to die. Harry weighed the leaves and did some of his florist voodoo-looking tests on it, before admitting "It looks okay to me". Zayn promised he wasn't leaving so easily, not after the day before, and stood around until Harry spoke up and asked if he wanted him to pack him a small grooming kit in case-even gave it to him for free along with his number on a receipt, finishing his bouquet as he pointed "incase you have anymore questions, so that you don't have to come all this way".

On the fifth day, Zayn dragged Oscar to work and made him sit around his studio all day, just so that he could drag him to the florist afterward in almost a sprint because it was getting dark and he didn't want to miss him. Harry was counting up that days till, placing them off to the side to greet the breathless boy with papers falling from his hands. Harry offered some help, pointing to the rolled posters stemming from his arms in a craze, which he shook his head at "oh no, that's okay".

"Are you sure? I could help you carry some things, are you far?" But he widened his eyes in horror at the mere thought of Harry walking him home in awkward silence, and excused "I'll manage, can I buy some of those seeds, I've been thinking about growing-" he squinted at the board behind Harry "parsley-yeah-".

He may have only gained the strength to swiftly converse, or more, nod and hum at Harry when he would explain to leave the African Violet's outside during sunny days, or how to trim a Devil's Ivy, but there's no way he can come up with a formidable excuse as to why he's there without Oscar coaxing him along.

The dog folded then, licking Zayn's hand and wagging his tail, making him sigh in relief.

When they arrive at the small florist, soft warm lights glowing as dark begins to loom, Zayn enters with a quaint smile to see Harry bent over his desk with a girl to his side as he goes off on a tangent. She notices him first, before he's able to turn on his heel and exit at the sight, cringing as the ring of the bell betrays him, and Harry smiles up at him from behind his big frames he uses at his little workstation that make his already animated fluorescent pupils grow in size, making him look more like a Disney princess than anything else.

"Hey" he gives in, walking the isle before the girl looks down at Oscar in awe, dropping to scoop him up just the same Harry would each day prior that week. God, he thinks, have I really been that annoying? What if he's sick of me? He can't hide the nasally "I'm good," that comes when Harry steps off of his chair to greet the boy, wiping his hands against his smudged apron as he does each time a customer walks in.

"Are you sick?" He frowns, stepping closer then and looking at him the way he observes his plants, the pull of his eyebrows and squint of his eyes intimidating Zayn at how close in proximity they are, before shrugging "oh no, I'm-" only for his nose to deceive him next when he sneezes.

"Harry" the girl finally speaks, rolling her eyes as she stands and acknowledges the boy "leave the poor guy", flicking a brunette sweep of hair behind her ear.

Harry disregards her, raising his hand to meet Zayn's forehead, to check his temperature no doubt, making him sink back and push his hand away when he stutters "I-I'm fine" a little defensively, which makes Harry step back and nod.

"Harry, I'm starving" the girl whines, taking over his seat by his desk, and his smile returns when he flicks her playfully "Gem, I gotta finish first".

Zayn wishes he listened to Oscar's groans and stayed home, frowning at the nickname for the girl, before he realises Harry is talking to him again.

"What can I help you with?"

"O-Oh-um-" nows the time he plants his elaborate excuse as to why he's showed up this time. He's clearly waiting, Gem glaring at him in concern even as she toys with a pen seemingly disinterested, Oscar whining as if begging him to say something now.

"My list" he exasperates, throwing his arms up as if to ensure that's right ! Harry's eyebrows are knotted in a frown, lips set in a straight line as he waits for him to explain in the adorable confused lines on his face.

He tugs on Oscar's leash, excusing himself inch by inch whilst only wishing he could disappear completely right now, "I forgot my list, I'm so stupid". He's hoping Harry would get the hint and smile, you're so funny Zayn! I could kiss you right now!

"I'm gonna, text Liam, and let him know I'm coming home" adding a he's probably worried, you wouldn't wanna see him when he hasn't got his milk. Harry didn't seem to be buying it, nodding despite, and agreeing "yeah, of course" flatly.

✿

Zayn refused to leave his room that weekend, so embarrassed for not only blowing it with Harry, but seeming so desperate without realising Harry clearly wasn't interested.

"He's got a girlfriend!" Is all he groaned when he had come home after his horrible encounter with Harry and homewrecker Gem, Liam lifting Oscar to pet him on his knee whilst he sat on the couch with Niall to watch the football.

"What's got your nickers in a twist?" Louis tugged on his pants as he entered from the hall, eyes locked on the television, when he heard the whining from the bathroom.

"Zayn's life is falling apart" Liam summarised, poking fun when he finally looked at Zayn and laughed "must've gone terribly-seems you came home empty handed".

"Shut up" he grumbled, jumping onto his stomach in presumably Louis' spot on the couch as he cried into the cushion "leave me to die". The latter wasn't having it, rolling his eyes and pushing his legs to the floor to leave room for himself when he rolled off in a mopey frown that caught the concerned smile of Niall who pet his ankle in sorry.

"Is that why you've turned the apartment into a botanical garden? Blood 'ell, what happened to when people just swapped messengers and left it at that?" Louis quirked his nostrils at the strong scent of flora wafting in from the entrance of the place "none of that buying dogs, and plants, business" the room erupted, Liam kicking him with a pout. He was too heartbroken to talk about it, excusing himself with a beer as the boys cheered at their team shooting a goal to go mope alone in his room.

✿

"You wanna go for a walk?" Liam offered when Zayn hadn't left the corners of their apartment at all the next week, aside from going to and from work. He even took a longer route now, to ensure he wouldn't run into Harry or the florist on the street corner.

It had been a while since they had gone on their ritual dog walk and jog, and because Zayn was admittedly tired of sulking at the scratch of his nostrils when he would leave his room, and the itch of his chest, not sure if he was crying from the copious amounts of pollen in the air or the fact he was certainly still very much heartbroken over Harry Styles the florist, he agreed.

They tracked out the building, Oscar tugging on the leash excitedly, and Liam sprung into conversation over that weeks football final and Louis' plans of getting hammered, how he promised it was all Zayn needed and more, the perfect remedy for heart ache.

Without paying it much thought, Zayn followed the pull of Oscar's lead as Liam chewed off his ear, staring at the ridiculous get up of bright yellow jog shirt and the sweat band pulling his short hair from his face. That had to be a new shirt, he thought, noting he'd definitely be tossing it when he does the laundry in order to save his friend the embarrassment, because it certainly wasn't his colour.

"Hey," Liam stopped talking abruptly, and Zayn gasped at Oscar and the realisation he had lead them all the way to the familiar shop on the corner with flowers and plants pooling from its contents.

"Liam-no!" It was too late, following after his friend in a hushed hiss as he entered the florist, the retched bell screaming at their arrival. Harry appeared from the back room, holding a set of heavy boxes that towered over him as he begged "sorry! One second!"

"You look like you've got your hands full" Liam jogged over to what looked like a struggling Harry, knees about to buckle, taking one of the boxes from his hands to reveal bright emerald eyes and his same full-dimpled smile "thank you, that's the last time I overstate my strength and coordination" he chuckled, eyes darting from Liam to Zayn currently trying to subtly hide behind a palm leaf.

"Hey, Oscar," he kneeled to greet the dog who pulled Zayn toward him, frowning at his betrayal, and definitely sure he would be locking the dog out of his room tonight as revenge.

"I'm Liam, and you are?" the taller boy introduced, extending a hand that Harry took after wiping his own to return "Harry". His smile faltered only a second, a second too long for Zayn, who swallowed at the fact he probably looks like such a douche right now for not ever mentioning Harry's name to Liam.

"That's right, Harry, Zayn told me all about you!" Zayn boggled at his friends blatant lie, then to Harry who seemed a little brighter the next second when he asked "really?"

"Yeah, I just had to come see what all the fuss was about, with these luscious locks, and gorgeous green eyes" he mimicked his friend, who was now standing beside him trying not to slap him at the sight of Harry's cheeks turning a deep crimson, dusting his nose and highlighting his freckles as he returns his gaze momentarily.

"Actually," Liam points in false-thought as Zayn prays his head would explode if it meant he would shut up, "we have a spare ticket to tomorrow's game, if you're interested in football?"

"I don't watch it much, but my sister is a big fan" Harry is looking at Liam, but his eyes keep panning back to Zayn every few seconds as he speaks.

"What team does she go for?"

"Manchester United". Which seems to be the correct answer, because Liam gleams "So she has taste. the game is Liverpool against Manchester City, it's gonna be massive" in response.

Harry probably doesn't understand, if Zayn's going off of the tug of his eyebrows before they settle and he nods a "um-yeah-I guess I don't need to open the shop up tomorrow" and Liam lifts his hands in victory "perfect! Do you have Zayn's number?"

"I've got his" Zayn's suddenly reminded, knowing for a fact he folded the small piece of paper and left it between the pages of the novel by his bed the day he gave it to him.

"Good, then Zayn will text you the details, it's settled".

The first thing Zayn does when they leave the small establishment is punch Liam, the second being sending Harry a text we'll meet you at the station? We'll have to go early cause it's a two hour train ride. Hoping it sounded bro-enough.

✿

Unfortunately, but not to his surprise, the other two boys expressed their excitement in the group chat over "Curly", as Liam mentions to them, the three of them gossiping idly as if Zayn isn't in the chat as well, amongst planning what bar they'd be going to after the game, and if they'll celebrate in Brighton or come back to London. They decide in the end that they'll go to their usual joint in town, which is probably safer as they all agree on, despite the two hour train ride they'd have to encounter with the swarm of other fans on the way back.

✿

It's a chilly morning, and Zayn makes effort to dig through the contents of his closet to find his Manchester scarf, all deciding that seems it was Niall's team against Liverpool, they'd go all out. He's not too sure if Harry would have anything, assuming not, so he shoves an extra beanie into his bag for good measure, shooting him a text to say that they're on their way to the station then because Niall and Louis are terrible with time and if they aren't an hour early, then they won't make it to the game in time and have to deal with the traffic additional to a cranky Louis.

Niall has half of his face painted, his large jersey hugging his frame and making him appear shorter than he already is, and Zayn can already see that Louis has stubbornly worn his Manchester United jumper instead, but too has his face painted.

Zayn wasn't feeling like going all out, covering his cheeks with two coloured lines, walking further onto the platform alongside Liam who reads through their tickets for the seventh time since arriving to make sure they've got them all. He can see dark skinny jeans tight against freakishly long legs when they get closer, attached to a navy coat and scarf, and almost laughs at how out of place Harry looks standing next to the two boys who are chatting along.

"Lads" Liam greets, the other boys nodding in his direction, and Harry smiling to them both with a "hi".

"Zayn, how could you let this happen" Niall screeches, pointing out the fact Harry had not a single item to his name, to which he responded by pulling out the beanie he had packed and offering it to him with a stern "see" in the Irish boys direction. Harry seems to take to the group like a butterfly, getting on with Niall and Louis, who are probably two of the most insufferable guys Zayn knows, stifling a laugh with his index finger when Niall makes a crude joke over a couple fighting on the platform before they all get on and find seats.

Despite his attempts, Zayn ends up sat beside Harry, in turn, taking the paint from Niall when he wouldn't let go of the fact Harry looked out of place in order to do up his face- repeating the two coloured lines from his own face because he has sympathy, and wouldn't want to ruin the clear skin of his face anyway. He knew for a fact they were pulling his leg by forcing him to do his face, trying not to mess it up as the carriage jolts, the small pallet sitting on Harry's thigh as Zayn cups his chin in one hand and has his other resting against Harry's face in attempt to steady the strokes.

It was hard to focus between the warmth of Harry's skin beneath his palm, the sound of his heart thrumming in his ear, and the strong eye contact from Harry most likely from the way his tongue darted between his teeth when he attempted to concentrate and hung off to the side.

"There" he finalised, not being able to help the way his thumb brushed over the drying paint before putting the pallet back into its ziplock bag to return to Niall's pack. The rest of the train ride was of him trying not to think about the press of Harry's thigh against his own, and the boy constantly apologising when the train would move and his hand would fall on him to catch himself.

The game itself was just about as full as the boys had presumed it would be, having to stand around in line for so long, swapping between going to the bathroom and planning who was buying the pints, and at what time. Zayn had tried to keep his distance from Harry, reminding himself that no matter how soft his crooked stance and pretty face was, that he also had a girlfriend, and it was in his best interest not to let himself be hurt any further.

"This is really good" The boy tried when he saw the paint Zayn had done to his face in the camera of his phone, giving Louis the opportunity to mention he's an artist, and making Harry gasp "you never told me that".

Of course he didn't, they don't really know each other, Zayn wanted to remind him. Instead he just smiled a "thank you" before focusing on finding their seats with Liam ahead.

Unfortunately, it was beyond his control when he ended up between Harry and a ten year old Liverpool boy after the other boys practically shoved them into the isle. Zayn couldn't help the frown and concentrated look he gave his friends, mumbling under his breath as he sunk into his seat and waited for the kickoff.

"What's happening now?" Harry would poke at his thigh or tug his sleeve every few minutes, which would be horribly annoying if it wasn't Harry- and more so, horribly endearing.

"You really have never watched football, haven't you?" Zayn stumped, finding himself annotating the game after the second quarter nonchalantly and abandoning his attempts to leave him alone. When the other boys would stand to cheer, or yell, Harry would sit up, almost falling as he repeated a curse and pretended he knew what was going on.

The game ended with Manchester City leading 4-1, and all the boys hugged and cheered whilst Louis teased the little kid to their side until Liam stood in because he was afraid the parents would get involved soon. Maybe Zayn even held on a second too long when Harry enveloped him, long skinny arms wrapping the width of his frame, and he hoped for a moment he'd squeeze and kill him right there-better than him seeing the crimson blush heating his cheeks.

The train was horrible, dozens upon dozens of winning and losing team fans with their scarves, jerseys, and smudged face paint. Their own carriage was full of Manchester fans who all sung along to the theme song, making Harry nudge Zayn and whisper-yell that he was certain that after all of this, he would definitely be singing the anthem for weeks subconsciously. Zayn laughed at that, catching Harry's hips when the carriage jolted and he stumbled so that he could apologise yet again.

Upon arriving back in London, Louis had somehow persuaded Harry into coming with them to the pub, even though he insisted prior that he had to work tomorrow so shouldn't. Zayn didn't want to force him, so he only shrugged when Niall begged "Zayn wants you to come".

It turns out that Zayn was wrong, that Harry was the social drinker type, and even out drank Niall one round. Louis folded his arms and flicked Zayn teasingly, telling him Curly's a keeper before shouting for Niall to walk it off when he gaped at his loss to the younger, english boy.

Zayn steered clear of Harry quite successfully. rather easily, even, when Louis and Niall had both taken a huge liking to him and pulled him off every few seconds with another story or challenge. He fit in rather comfortably to the group, which made Zayn anxious in a way because that was actually horrible, and he couldn't picture himself having to get over this huge crush he's gotten himself caught up with if he's invited to all of their gatherings from now on. Cause cute, adorably shy, and clumsy Harry sober was enough as it was, but touchy, cuddly, clumsy drunk Harry was too much of the challenge for him.

His curls folded over his eyes, his face glowing with the grin that accompanied his gentle complexion, and he stole sips of Niall's drinks as he giggled toward Zayn in hushes of little jokes like "why did the baboon ask the Giraffe 'why the long face?'" Not waiting for his response before laughing "cause he thought it was his face, but it was his neck" that Zayn thought were probably the worst jokes he had ever heard, but couldn't handle the laugh that fell from him with each one, blaming it on the way he fancied Harry-because there's no other reason he'd think them funny.

Zayn tried to give Harry the cold shoulder, to ignore his jokes and lingering stature, the cheeky smiles he sent only Zayn's way, and how his eyes sparked when he'd talk about something he was passionate about. It was evil, the small uneven hiccups that fell from his mouth when he toyed with the rings on his fingers, and when he would accidentally graze his shoe against Zayn's calf under the table because he really couldn't keep still, no matter how hard he tried.

"I'm gonna go get another round," Zayn stood when it got too much, the lift of Harry's shirt feeding him small glimpses of his waistband that hugged his chubby hips when the bar stood in uproar to sing along to the Manchester City anthem that played on the television as they reeled highlights for what seemed the tenth time that night.

"Do you want some help?" Harry was quick stand, already ready to somehow climb over the top of the table and definitely spill everything in the process.

"No" Zayn shook his head quickly. Harry nodded shortly, lowering back into his seat like a child being told off. He watched the boys go back to talking as he breathed in relief at finally getting out, walking up to the bar to get their drinks. That's when a guy from college had to of noticed him, and despite him wanting to get back, he joined in conversation over how he was going and what it was he was doing with his life since graduation-the usual. The conversation lasted longer than sober Zayn can calculate, and by the time he had managed to get away, a jug of beer in hand, he had noticed Harry missing from the booth.

"Where's Harry?" He asked Liam who shook his head and pointed at Louis, saying he didn't notice he had left. He became worried rather quickly when Louis mentioned he picked up his coat, so he must've gone to get a taxi, adding a "you're an idiot, Zayn Malik" un amusingly.

He was already typing up his contact in his phone by the time he had reached the door of the bar, falling out into the street and suddenly sighing in relief at the sight of the boy standing off to the side of the door. His back was perched against the wall, and it was fairly dark, so Zayn couldn't of noticed the frown that took over his usual dimpled smile at the sight of the worried boy with his Manchester City scarf hugging his neck lazily.

"Oh" was all Harry managed when Zayn was close enough to acknowledge, "I thought you were busy" not sounding so happy to have caught him.

"So you're trying to sneak off?" Zayn couldn't conceal the slight hurt in his voice, suddenly guilty that the boy must've had that bad of a night he felt it necessary to sneak out before he could make it back. Upon thinking about it, it even made him slightly mad, adding a "you weren't even gonna say anything?" Because of how silly it would have been if Harry had of gotten kidnapped because he wasn't being smart.

"What do you mean?" Harry responded defensively, catching Zayn off guard by the way his voice grew an octave deeper. "You're so confusing" he exasperated, hanging his head in presumably defeat.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zayn accused.

Harry stepped closer to him then, catching him off guard when he was mere inches away "do you want me or not? Cause-" he laughed bitterly, "I'm honestly so confused right now". Zayn was starstruck, gaping at the sight of Harry suddenly sharp and tall, not his usual soft exterior.

"I mean, I gave you my number, and you never messaged or called me- then the way you just left-and I didn't hear from you for a whole week-Zayn-" It was dark, but Zayn could hear the chip in his voice and the way he wavered, along with the flamboyant shakes of his hands, he was certainly about to cry. He was going to speak, to grab Harry's shoulders and get him to calm down, before he pulled away and continued "and then you invited me to this game-and all day you've been so nice and flirty-like last week-and then the next second you're ignoring me and trying to get away again—and then you go and talk to some guy for half an hour-"

"Harry," Zayn raised his hand as he tried to interpret everything he was saying, shaking his head in disbelief "you've got a girlfriend-Harry-the girl from your store-"

The look of him then, the way his shoulders dropped at Zayn's words and he almost doubled over laughing caught Zayn off guard the most whilst he stared back like he had lost his mind.

"Gemma? Gemma's my sister, Zayn"

He almost fell on his ass, his mouth opening in an 'o' as the words caught on his tongue and failed to form a response.

"And that doesn't give you the right to treat me like shit" Harry sat, folding his arms over his knees. Zayn had to give himself a second longer, staring off to the side as he processed Harry has a sister, not a girlfriend and he would have laughed at the thought of how stupid he was if he wasn't so embarrassed, sinking down to the pavement beside the boy who wasn't up for fighting any longer, eyes trained on his rings as he played with them.

"I'm so fucking dumb" he finally breathed, making Harry scoff "exactly".

"I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, Harry, it's just-" he looked to him as if waiting for him to look back, sighing when he didn't, "I've had this massive crush on you, and I thought Gem was your girlfriend, and I didn't want to get hurt, and I couldn't even deal with seeing you and knowing I couldn't do anything about it"

"You could have just asked" Harry sounded relinquished.

"I know, I was just too scared"

They sit there longer in silence, Zayn too scared to say anything, letting Harry take it in and cool down a bit. Of course, it got to the point where Zayn's ass was starting to cramp, and he was sure Harry wasn't going to say anything, so he forced himself up before offering Harry a hand which he took to pull him to his feet next.

"I just wanna go home" Harry stopped him when he was sure he was about to open his mouth. It was the least Zayn could do, nodding as he brushed the dirt from Harry's back and apologised over the fact he couldn't let him go home alone, especially drunk.

They ended up walking the short distance to Zayn and Liam's apartment, shoulders brushing as they stared at anything but one another, too embarrassed and angry over the stupid mistake. Of course, Zayn forgot the odd dozen of plants stashed by the door of the apartment, letting Harry lead before hearing him laughing.

"You weren't supposed to see those" There was no way he could hide them now, covering his face when Harry observed the small layout "my god, Zayn, you haven't watered them in days".

"I was preoccupied with being heartbroken" he defended, making the latter only laugh harder as he stood to his feet and walked further into the apartment. It was relatively clean, and he hummed before noting the fact it was definitely the way he expected Zayn's apartment to look, before Oscar ran out from Liam's room to greet the boys toeing off their shoes.

Zayn sneezed, walking passed Harry who was on the floor with the puppy licking away at his face and making it scrunch when he attempted to speak "I missed you too".

"You'll get fur all over yourself" Zayn walked back, lifting Harry by his arm and helping him onto the couch before excusing himself to go and get him some water-and a towel to wash the smudging paint from his face with.

When he walked back, Oscar had returned to the depths of Liam's room, and he sunk to the floor in front of Harry with a bottle of water for him to sip at whilst he gently patted his face with the wet cloth, holding his chin to control his movement as Harry stared back at him.

"There you go" he finished, petting his chin carefully before Harry swallowed, catching Zayn's cheek with the pad of his index and thumb whilst apologising, again.

"You've got to stop apologising," Zayn looked at him, eyes panning down to his mouth, taking Harry's fingers in order to get him to focus and drink his water, finding himself locking his fingers over them when they curled around his hand instead, giving in next when he leans in, stopping as if waiting for Harry to push him away, before taking in the soft warm breath that parted from the boys mouth when they touched.

His mouth was hot, lips wet and tasting of a mixture of alcohol that sedated his lungs and dripped against his own. Intoxicating was probably too cliche, but that's exactly how it felt kissing Harry Styles, feeling himself fall deeper and deeper each time he would gasp, or his tongue would graze his cheek when Zayn dipped his head against his mouth to conjure him to open up.

He pulled himself away, forcing himself to sit back down against his heels when Harry whined and pouted, lips a deep cherry red that opened to plea "did I do something wrong?"

"You're drunk, Harry," he reminded him, because even if Harry promised this was what he wanted , he wasn't about to take advantage of his current state, and forced him to down the bottle of water before helping him to bed.

He moved some things from his bed whilst Harry explored his small collection of novels he said he only bought because he was bored and it made the room look fuller, picking up the small bottle that sat at his bedside table and giggling "you're allergic to flowers?"

"Hey! Nosy!" he defended, swooping the small bottle of pills from his hand when he fell onto the bed and clutched his stomach "why did you buy all of those plants from me if you're allergic?"

"Well because it gave me an excuse to go and see you every day, shut up".

Harry awed, catching him by surprise when he didn't continue to laugh, turning to see if he had died suddenly because he choked or something, only to see his eyes closed and body slanted over the edge of the bed lazily.

"You're heavier than you look" Zayn grumbled when he finally managed to pull his boots from him, leaving his pants as he managed to pull the blanket out from under him to tuck him in next. Harry hummed, not responding, probably not even hearing him.

✿

Zayn awoke, seeing his phone light up with the time 6:15am catching his eyes, groaning as he tried to adjust his arm from being caught under Harry.

"You're hot," he mumbled, making Harry stir against his side and breathe into his shoulder "You're not so bad yourself" .

"That's not what I meant" he would roll his eyes if they were open, grumbling "take your pants off".

"Buy me a drink first," Harry teased, but inched away to sit up on the side of the bed, a wave of cold air hitting Zayn's bare chest next and forcing his eyes open. The soft glow of light pollution bled into the room from the feeble curtains, outlining Harry's body and the craze of his hair as he tugged off his pants, leaving Zayn to stare at his back rather shamefully.

"Do you feel okay?" He worried, not really feeling like wiping up vomit from his carpet, but also wanting to make sure Harry wasn't going to go to work with a gruesome head ache all because of him and his friends.

"Yeah, I've done worse" Harry turned back, facing Zayn as he laid back down and his curls fell over his face again, making the other boy push them away instinctively before wondering "worse? God, I'm never making assumptions about a person again" with a mischievous laugh masking his words.

"What time are you leaving for work?" Zayn's fingers dust over the outline of Harry's cheeks, absorbing the way the slow drawl of light chases his complexion and the lines of his face move when he responds "an hour, probably, unless you want me to go now-" like he's unsure.

"No, of course not" Zayn shakes, tipping his head to kiss the space between his eyebrows before he responds by lifting his eyes to meet the pursue of his lips, coaxing a "can we try this again?"

He thanks god, sighs a breath of relief that catches on Harry's tongue and darts between his lips to chase after him. In the quiet break of dawn, Zayn can hear the incoherent mewls that fall from him, thumbing the skin of his cheek and basking in the warmth of his mouth.

He doesn't think he could get sick of kissing Harry, mumbling "I think I'm gonna have to delete that bad review I gave you" before Harry punches him "that was you? You prick!"

"I'll bring you coffee to make up for it" Zayn wraps his arms over his waist, enough to pull him in as he attempts to pry himself away suddenly, nuzzling into the nape of his neck as he can't help the amused chuckle that erupts there.

Eventually, Harry gives in, dimples on display as he gleams back at Zayn "Hmm," he pretends to think, "you might have to make it up to me some time, but I'll let you try".


End file.
